A Series of Events
by radcgg
Summary: Rachel and Puck's relationship through a series of vignettes. Some M-rated chapters. It's not necessary to read all of the story to understand as each segment is stand alone.
1. Solace

**Title: Solace  
Rating: Ummm... more than PG-13... but less than R  
Characters: Rachel, Finn, Quinn, Puck...  
Word Count: 1012  
Summary: Two unusual and opposite people search for something in each other.  
Disclaimer: Glee does not belong to me.  
AN: Didn't have it beta-ed, sorry. Let me know if you find any mistakes or anything.  
**

The first time it happens she doesn't know what to think. It's nothing more than a brush of body in the hallway but her body reacts. Pulsing in an unfamiliar way.

It's not a slushy in the face.

********

She's hurt and, well, she's hurt. She has been working towards her dream forever, thinking that eventually she would be able to have a normal high school experience, with a normal high school boyfriend who loves her.

What she gets is entirely different.

*******

She doesn't go to Glee practice anymore. Her time is spent rehearsing for the play or at dance practice. In fact, dance practice seems to start at the same time as football practice, but, of course, she takes no notice of this. She doesn't even think about him (hardly ever).

Her body has been stretched and pulled, twirled and posed a million different ways and the sweat tangles up in the stray hairs that have come loose from her carefully created bun. She walks down the hall trapped in her own thoughts of arabesques and pirouettes when she feels two rough hands on her arms. She's pulled into a darkened classroom, but can't do more than watch as the door closes behind their bodies.

She's maneuvered over to the wall more by his presence than any actual force. Fingers trail along her arm, and a strange tingling begins. Something that she's only felt once before, but she refuses to think about now.

When his hands come to rest on either side of her face she finally asks in a quiet voice why.

"Why not," comes the sarcastic and rough reply. "Don't you want to feel something?" One hand remains on her face, while the other travels down her side, lingering on her hip.

She can't quite recall who made the first move, but she knows that it was her choice. And she could have left if she wanted to. But the truth was that she did want to feel something. Something besides hurt and betrayed.

With unfamiliar lips pushing, caressing, opening against her own, she lets go. Her tongue traces his upper lip before brushing inside his mouth. He doesn't push, but moves closer to her, allows her body to rest between his and the wall. And she is absorbed by the moment.

For a time (the first in a while) her thoughts are not filled with kisses in an auditorium, blonde haired cheerleaders, solos, singing, pain, longing, her own inability to be normal. Everything is involved in keeping him with her, trapped in this moment for as long as it lasts.

When the moment finally ends, her lips are bruised. She mashes them together, keeping his taste inside, loving the feeling of normalcy, hating for those feelings of inadequacy to return.

"It doesn't have to mean anything more than that," he whispers into her ear before his hands and body leave hers alone in the room.

*******

He ignores her in the hallway. Ignores her in class. But she doesn't have to bring a change of clothes to school anymore.

*******

A few days after their first encounter she has a relapse.

Finn is everywhere. In the hallway, in her classes, in her head. He tries to talk to her, tries to explain. Even offers to talk about what happened between them in the auditorium again.

She doesn't want to think about it. So she ignores him. Walks away, but it simmers in her mind, rolling over and over and over.

At the end of practice that same day she stands hidden by the locker room.

She almost smiles, as the boy she's been waiting for exits the room looking just as dejected as she feels inside. She carefully checks to be sure that none of his teammates are following him before stepping out of the shadows.

"It doesn't mean anything, right," she says quietly as she grasps at his hands and leads him into the nearest enclosed space. She almost sees a smile or a smirk pass over his lips before her own smother whatever it might have been.

His hands are everywhere and she doesn't think. Doesn't do anything but kiss him back until she hears the soft singing coming through the locker room door.

It's enough to break her.

His hands soften against her, come up to her face again, brushing away tears she doesn't even know she is crying. His lips move to follow, gently kissing away her pain. She accepts it, but hitches her leg around his hips and moves her own mouth on him more urgently. Her sobs turn into sighs as he attacks a soft spot on her neck with his tongue and teeth.

Until finally her mouth finds his again, and she works hard to give him the same comfort. To give him the same release from whatever pain he has in his life.

********

It's not until they are both standing on opposite sides of the hallway, one week later, that she realizes that their problems are the same.

He wants to be something more. So does she.

He wants to get out of Lima. So does she.

Wants to do something with his life. Be somebody.

It's a stop off at Finn's locker that changes everything. There is Finn, rummaging through his book bag for something. She's still not speaking to him and he's too involved in his project to bother trying. Quinn comes up behind him and wraps her perfect arms around Finn's chest.

By chance, she looks up in the mirror attached to her locker and sees the body she's come to know quite intimately, looking just a little to the left of her. She watches as his eyes, eyes that go a molten chocolate when they are alone, follow the sway of blonde hair and the swish of red and white fabric as Quinn walks away, leaving Finn to his search.

She turns her head to look at him directly, across the way, an ocean of high school angst and drama between them.

And for a moment they both understand.

It might not mean anything, but it's enough just to take the pain away (for now).


	2. A Small Betrayal

**Title: A Small Betrayal  
Word Count: 1490  
Rating: Again, a little more than Pg-13 but definitely less than R  
Summary: Her days continue, much in the same ways they always have.  
Characters: Rachel, Puck, Finn, Quinn, mentions of Mr. Schuester (Rachel/Puck; Rachel/Finn)  
Spoilers: Ummm... the promo for 1.05. I haven't watched the clips because I wanted to write out my own little version of what I think should/will go down.  
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine. I'm just borrowing them for a while.  
Author's Note: Again, unbeta-ed... sigh... But edited one time now!**

Her days continue, much in the same ways they always have.

Except for those twenty minutes every few days when she gets to escape. They're never planned out in advance, always spur of the moment. Arms reaching out, pulling, pushing. lifting, brushing.

Those minutes of blinding need and urgency and something that feels like comfort wrapped in a strange package.

It's not until three weeks after the initial event that things change. That Finn changes them.

"Rachel," he starts. "You can't keep ignoring me. I thought we were friends." He looks so awkward, holding onto his backpack with one hand while shoving the other deep into his pocket.

"We are friends," she says quietly. Or at least she thought they were. Once.

"Meet me after school today, okay?" He looks so lost, she can't say no. She nods her head slightly before picking up her bag and walking to class.

Three hours later the school day is over. There is no practice. No Glee, no football, no dancing or singing. And her thoughts fill with Finn. Why did he want to meet after school? Was he just trying to lure her back? Well that wouldn't work. She'd made up her mind. That was that.

As she approaches her locker, she sees him standing there waiting, car keys in hand. "Where are we going," she asks as she loads in her Science books, removing some Math and a novel for English.

"Out," he replies. She pulls out her coat, looping her arms through the sleeves and throwing her bag onto her back, she silently motions for him to begin walking.

She's never been in his car before. During that first week she might have thought about it a time or two (of what it would feel like to be pressed between the soft material of the seat and Finn's body). But now, all she can do is look straight ahead as she buckles her seatbelt.

As they pull out of the parking lot she catches a quick glimpse of Noah's face (the boy who was in her grade one class, the boy who just a few weeks ago felt insane pleasure at hurting her, the boy she consoles and who consoles her). Their eyes lock for just a moment and she sees the question (what?).

She doesn't know the answer.

She brings her attention back to the car. Finn has left the radio on some classic rock station. He hums gently along with some guy singing about a drive-in and his mama's porch.

"You're really not going to tell me where we're going?" Her eyes search for some kind of familiar landmark but there's nothing.

"Nope." She hears the smile in his voice without seeing it, turns her head towards the window to avoid him glimpsing her own smile in response.

Suddenly he veers off the road into a parking lot. Well, not any parking lot… The Bowl-a-Rama. "Why are we at the bowling alley?"

"Come on," he continues as he opens his door then walks around the car to open hers. Sometimes she thinks that Finn is an old soul. Someone who still believes that a gentleman should always open the door for a lady. Who thinks that carrying someone's books is not a chore but a privilege. Who offers before (and without) being asked.

He leads her into the alley, rents her shoes and spends the next hour and a half trying to teach her the mechanics of bowling a strike.

At one point when his arms are wrapped around her and their fingers are overlapping as they grip and guide her ball down the lane, she feels it again. That feeling she had in the auditorium. The feeling that she's been trying so hard to forget. The feeling that's so different from when she's up against the wall in a darkened classroom, not having to think.

She almost forgets to watch the ball after it leaves their fingers. She's so absorbed in feeling his body against hers, her head resting just so slightly on his chest. It rolls, and rolls and rolls, and hits. Hits all of the pins. She's pretty sure that's a great thing. Her smile is huge as she throws her arms around his neck in triumph. His hands lift at her waist spinning her around in a circle, holding her close, before putting her down to continue the game.

He doesn't help her guide the ball again.

* * * *

After their game, they sit across from one another at one of the plastic tables. It's Finn, so she doesn't complain.

They talk. About anything. Everything. But she always feels like there's something else on his mind.

Finally it comes out.

He wants her to come back to Glee. The invitational is only days away and Glee really needs her. She's the best one there and they're dying without her.

"Glee's not fun anymore."

What he really means is that Glee isn't fun if she's not there (doesn't he?). So she accepts it, and tells him that she'll try.

He drives her home. They talk about things. Why she decided to take French instead of Mr. Schue's Spanish class. Why he chose football and not baseball. When they finally reach her house she feels more whole that she's felt in a long time.

Finn walks her to her door and kisses her quietly before walking back to his car.

* * * *

She dreams of him that night, all kisses and sighs, talking and laughing.

* * * *

It's not until she's at school the next day that she hears the rumour.

She doesn't break her word though. She goes to Glee. She practices. She sings her hardest, but she refuses to look at Finn.

She smothers the pain she feels until her eyes meet up with a different pair of dark brown eyes … He knows. She reads it on his face. Just as she knows that he'll be waiting for her after practice today. She smiles a thank you and blinks away the tear that tries to escape.

When practice ends she walks over to Tina. "You did a really great job today," is all she says. She only hopes that Tina understands and accepts the underlying apology. Then she picks up her book bag and leaves the choir room.

"Rachel." Finn's voice only reminds her of what a fool she made of herself. How she was once again pulled into… him. "Wait up." She stops walking and turns to face this boy who manages to cause her so much agony.

She watches him cover the side of his face with both hands before she feels the sting in her palm. "How could you?" It's funny, but she thinks she hears tears in her voice. "How could you?" She can't think about the people stopping around them in the hallway to gawk at them. Wondering why they're fighting. Wondering why he even acknowledged her outside of Glee practice.

When he doesn't answer she runs away, down the hall toward the football locker room to the storage closet. She waits.

He arrives only moments later and she doesn't waste any time. This is the same boy she hated only weeks ago, all dark and brooding and perfect.

Perfect, because he doesn't ask questions.

Perfect, because he doesn't try to make her feel better with meaningless words.

Perfect, because he is three inches too short and doesn't have a slight curl to the ends of his hair. Perfect, because his chest is not wide enough and his smile is more malicious.

Then his lips are on hers punishing for going with Finn last night. Caressing her because he knows why she did… His tongue tracing her mouth, manipulating her body in the most primitive of ways. There is no sweetness, only heat and oblivion.

* * * *

He watches from the shadows (but not for the first time).

He followed Puck down to the locker room thinking that they could have a man-to-man talk. Discuss some of the stuff that's been going on. Ever since Puck apologized for being out of line with Quinn, something has been off between them.

He almost knocks on the storage room door until he hears the low moan from inside.

Now he waits patiently. Minutes tick by slowly and his anxiety grows.

Puck leaves first. His clothes are rumpled. That's not always the way.

This time when Rachel leaves through the door, her lips are stained a beautiful pink that he finds almost impossible to resist. She rearranges her skirt slightly and darts her tongue along her top lip, then the bottom one, in a move so unexpectedly sensual he works hard not to groan and reveal his hiding place.

When she disappears down the hall, he steps out and breathes deeply.

And wonders if she realizes that she's not the only one who's hurting.


	3. Confrontation Moments in a Dark Room

**Title: Confrontation (Moments Alone in a Darkened Room)  
Word Count: 1073  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: Up to 1.05 but not beyond (AU - sorta)  
Characters: Rachel, Finn and Puck (Rachel/Puck; Rachel/Finn)  
Summary: The day they're found out is a dark day.  
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't sue please.  
Author's Note: Due to some massive personal stuff, all I've been able to write is angst. Also unedited.**

The day they're found out is a dark day.

She spends hours in class listening to the rain tap on the window rather than her teachers. She hasn't learned anything in weeks. She can't seem to study enough. She reads and rereads her textbooks, but retains nothing.

She goes to Glee practice after school but her heart isn't in it anymore. Except for those few songs where she is able to sing out about her heartbreak to anyone who will listen. During those songs, she's not afraid to look at Finn. To stare him in the eye and tell him from low note to high that she does feel. That what she feels is damaged.

At the end of every rehearsal she watches him watch her. Which sounds weird, but their eyes meet and she just knows that he has something to say.

But he never does.

So she leaves followed closely by the boy that she has, longing for the boy she's leaving behind in the room.

In darkened classrooms her hands move along a shaved head instead of through strands of dark silken hair. Her legs wrap around hips too narrow with muscles that are too built up. The moans she elicits from him are too deep, too rugged, just like him. But it's all she has.

Her fingers work frantically at the buttons on his shirt as she pulls herself even closer to him. Her own sweater is already on the floor, his hands, roughened by football and guitar playing, and other things she doesn't want to know about, run along her spine, sending shivers through her. His lips attach to the soft spot where her neck meets her shoulder and she succeeds in pulling his shirt off.

And all she can feel is warm skin and hard muscles and a very physical response from her own body. A tingle that starts in her stomach and spreads downward.

For the moment, as he marks her shoulder, a place they had decided on together as it was not likely to be seen by others, she forgets all about Finn and his smile. The way his kisses were soft and light and nothing like Noah's. The way his hair felt in her hands, so soft. The way his smile reached his eyes when he looked at her.

She forgets all of that.

She tries to convince herself.

Her lower body rubs against Noah's incessantly. Her brain says she's not ready, but her body wants.

"We need to stop," she hears herself whisper.

"Why?" Is his strangled reply.

"Because we're in a classroom."

She breaks as his next whispered words caress the skin on her cheek. "And, what else?"

She swallows. Hard. "Because it's four o'clock…"

His fingers brush along the tender skin from hip, where her plaid skirt sits, all the way up to where her shoulder begins. "And…"

She kisses his mouth, intending for it to be a quick but desperate plea for him to stop, but as soon as her lips close over his, he fights back, pressing harder.

"Don't make me say it." Her body is screaming for release, her eyes squeezed shut.

Suddenly, her body is disengaged from his, the fabric of her sweater is in her hand. Her eyes open to see that he has replaced his shirt and started doing up buttons already.

"Quinn is pregnant." He states it so matter-of-factly, she knows he's not doing it out of spite.

Quinn is pregnant.

He places a sharp kiss on her forehead. "That's not going to change."

She can't even nod her head as she watches him leave the room.

Everything feels cold. She rushes to put her sweater back on, smoothing it into place, shifting her skirt to make sure that she is appropriately covered, before walking to the door herself.

Opening the door she walks straight into a wall of blue and grey.

With dark brown eyes that sparkle and soft lips which give only deep and meaningful kisses.

And for the first time, she's afraid of him. Of what he might do.

He doesn't touch her, doesn't reach out, like he's forced to during their songs together, but still manages to back her into the room again for privacy.

She feels a stream of guilt melt through her body, like she's always know what she did with Noah was wrong, but… she didn't care. She doesn't care.

"Him?"

One word. Loaded with a plethora of meanings.

_Why are you with him? He's who you chose? He's the one? _

She nods, and tries to shake off the lump forming in her throat making it hard to breathe.

"Of all the people in this school, you chose him? Why would you sneak around with him?" His body is so close to hers she can almost see the enraged waves of heat pulsing off his skin into the air around them. Filling the room with apprehension, disbelief.

"Why not," is her only response. She feels a slight smile come to her face as she pops the side of her bottom lip behind her teeth, scraping away some of Noah's taste (a mixture of bad boy, cola and mint). "It's not like there's a line of suitors at my door. I'm not in a relationship with anyone. Neither is he. As two unattached people, why shouldn't we be together?"

"What do you call us?" His question doesn't shock or amaze her.

"What do _you_ call us? We're certainly not dating. You have no claim on me. Why shouldn't I have a little fun." She truly believes this. But as his mouth gets closer to hers, she can't help but think of soft and tender kisses.

For a breath her eyes meet his and there is nothing else. The rest of the world tumbles into the background. His head bends down to hers, their foreheads meet, then noses, then lips. Closing, opening, closing again. Shifting ever so slightly. They fit. And it's beautiful. Her mouth opens for him and her arms wind their way around him, holding him tightly to her.

When she finally breaks for air, he speaks again. "What do you call that?"

She feels tears come to her eyes once more. She whispers one word to him. "Quinn."

Before she walks out the door again, he calls out to her. "This means something."

She doesn't know who he's trying to convince.


	4. Fall in Ohio

**Title:** Fall in Ohio  
**Word Count:** 628  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**Characters:** Rachel, Puck (Finn and Quinn by association)  
**Summary:** She doesn't stop seeing Noah.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee. No, I do not.  
**Author's Note:** Follows the others. Sorry this one's so short.

She doesn't stop seeing Noah.

In fact, now that Finn has let the cat out of the bag, she doesn't feel the need to sneak around anymore.

Still she's always surprised with Noah's willingness to display whatever they are publicly. Not that he holds her books, or opens doors for her, or calls every night. But he doesn't mind being with her in the hallway, and he sometimes stands beside her at practice.

She's started attending the football games even though she doesn't understand the game for the most part (and spends much of the time looking as far away from the Quarterback as possible). After, she waits for him outside the dressing room and they find some room somewhere, where she can show him how much she is (almost) over that other boy (the nameless one with the number 5 on his jersey).

Sometimes after rehearsal, after she's sung her heart and soul out to someone she can never have, she watches Noah stare after Quinn and her expanding middle. When his eyes meet hers, she motions with her head for him to meet her outside.

The air outside is crisp. Fall in Ohio, with the leaves changing colour, from soft greens to vibrant yellows and reds. When the light hits the branches and they sway in the wind, she truly believes that there is no place quite a beautiful as this. Then he appears.

His face is stoic, betrays none of the emotion she knows he has inside of him. His letterman jacket is done up all the way. She pulls him towards the side of the school, away from the potential interruptions of their classmates and friends exiting the building. She throws her arms around his neck before pressing her lips into his.

His moan echos through her and she pushes him into the outside wall. Her mouth opens on his, allowing her tongue to wander across to touch his, retreat, touch again, in a dance that only he has taught her. Her hands trail down his body – all steel and muscle. Until she reaches his hips and pulls them flush against her own. The pressure of her body against his, and his against the side of the building is perfect.

She feels his hands pull on her back, forcing her even closer to him.

God, she wishes he would let his hair grow out so that she could run her fingers through it. It would be the same colour as…

Her lips pull away from his, and her hands drop. She knows he feels the change.

"Quinn is pregnant." She whispers it, for them both. It's something they both need to hear and deal with.

"Yes." He responds in a quiet voice. One she's never heard before.

"Quinn and Finn are having a baby."

He says nothing. But his eyes avoid hers.

"Quinn and Finn _are_ having a baby." Aren't they? She leaves the question unsaid.

Again, no response.

"Oh." And she understands. It's always been about more than just his infatuation with Quinn Fabray. It's always been about more than her own obsession with Finn. It's about them trying to heal their wounds. Only his is so huge that it makes hers look miniscule. "Oh," she repeats again, taking a step away from him.

All this time Quinn has been lying. Everyone has been lying. Oh God, what is Finn going to do when he finds out the truth.

Then she looks up at the boy who has helped her deal her issues silently for weeks. And he's so lost. And he's so hurt. He's just a boy pretending to be a man – wanting to be a man.

She can't do anything but throw her arms around him and hold him close.


	5. First Time

**Title:** First Time  
**Word Count:** 706  
**Characters:** Rachel, Puck (Puck's magical fingers), Finn  
**Spoilers:** 105  
**Summary:** She stares up at the ceiling…  
**Rating: **R, for real! (not super explicit, but still)  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own "Glee", but I really do wish that Cory and Mark would come and visit... (wink wink)

She stares up at the ceiling.

Under normal circumstances she might have remarked that it's been freshly painted a clean white. Not eggshell or mother of pearl, but real white, with just the faintest tinge of blue.

But at this particular moment in time all she can do is breathe. Harsh rasping sounds moving in and out of her body (like his fingers were just seconds earlier).

If she wasn't so relaxed she might be anxious about his expectations. He didn't even bother to remove her shirt or skirt before his hands were busy beneath them both, dragging, driving, devouring.

She feels a slight shift on the bed and turns her head to the side. She expects his face to be one of triumph and success, but all she sees is a lost boy with hands that smell like the raspberry scented soap his mom buys.

She watches him lie down beside her on the bed before they both stare up at something neither of them can actually see.

"I've never…" she starts, but never really finds the energy to qualify it (felt this way before, let someone else touch me, slept with anyone).

"I know." He doesn't look at her, just continues to search for meaningful patterns in the ceiling.

"If you want, I can…" Again she can't finish her thought.

He leans over her and kisses her softly, for the first time. Normally their kisses are steamy, skilled sessions, with no thought beyond the now. Passion and forgetting, and something else, she thinks might be… more than friendship. A kind of kinship.

Then he falls back beside her without touching her further.

She still can't move, her muscles have given out on her. So they lie there together in silence. It's comfortable being with him like this.

"I was 12." He says it so quietly. She says nothing to discourage him, as having Noah open up to her (or anyone) happens rarely. He needs it. Needs someone to confide in. "It was my sister's friend. It was a game. I didn't really know what was happening until after."

Just a kid. She's seen the pictures of his older sister around the house. She's in college now. Got a scholarship to Ohio State or something.

"So I thought that it was something that everyone did, that everyone does." He's not making excuses. She knows what he is. Knows all about his pool cleaning business and the cougars he enjoyed. She knows about his forays with the Cheerios. "I didn't tell you to make you feel sorry for me or whatever," he says to her with such unexpected aggression. "I just wanted you to know that it's not supposed to be like that. When you're ready, you'll know."

She finally notices that her fingers have entwined with his, and she rolls onto her side, pulling at his shoulder to roll him as well. Of course, he helps with that. Her free hand reaches behind his head and her lips cover his violently. It's her special way of saying thank you, when her legs swing over his and force him back onto his back. Her lips attack his neck, then move back to his lips before easing away.

This is nothing like she imagined. When she thought about her first boyfriend she always assumed that he would be well, more like another boy on the football team, more monogamous and less like a player. She always thought that the kisses would be soft and deep, not harsh and rough like Noah's often are. She never thought that a friend's (and she uses the term loosely) pregnancy would force her into this messy thing, with a boy who specializes in messes.

There are times when she still expects to be bathed in cold, stick, sweet slush, when walking down the hallway.

"I should go," she says to him finally. He nods his head and they both put their shoes back on before heading out to the second-hand truck he got as a 16th birthday present from his mom.

On the drive across town, they pass by Finn's house. His car is parked in front. The light is on in his window. She wonders if he is there alone then pushes the thought aside.

Noah is what she has and that's enough.


	6. Teach Me A Silent Plea

**Title: Teach Me (a silent plea)  
Characters: Rachel/Puck, Quinn, Finn  
Rating: R (I can't help it… this is where they are in their relationship)  
Spoilers: If you know that Quinn is preggo, then you're good. Follows in my own special world.  
Summary: She almost confronts Finn, almost confronts Quinn, and just ends up learning a new skill from Puck.  
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Wish I could make money this way, but I don't.  
AN: Feedback is love – even if it's to tell me that I got it all wrong. Thank you to everyone who has "favourited" and set up "alerts". Also to everyone who has reviewed so far. :)**

She doesn't say anything to Finn. Not only was she told in confidence, but she's pretty sure that her (boyfriend) friend wouldn't want him to find out that way. Being forced to raise a baby that isn't his… She can't really fathom what he'd do if she did tell him. Whatever his reaction, she's positive that it wouldn't be good.

She almost confronts Quinn, though. In the hallway one day after Glee, after she starts to show. She walks quickly to her locker (never acknowledging that the reason her small feet hit the ground at a near run is because she's avoiding someone). Quinn is waiting at his locker, her face is pale white with dark circles around her eyes, highlighted by sadness.

She opens her own locker, the anger in her reaching up to her mouth, a compulsion.

_Why are you lying to him? What did he ever do to you? Why are you treating him this way?_

But the girl beside her is so morose, so far beyond sad that she holds in all her words of judgment and blame.

Instead she closes the metal door and faces her.

"You sounded really good in practice today."

Surprisingly, she actually means the words.

"Thanks," is Quinn's only reply.

So she turns, passing the boy along the way, giving him the customary "hi" exchange, but nothing more.

* * * *

Much later, she lies half on top of an extremely aroused sixteen-year-old boy.

She's always amazed at his body's response to her. How even the slightest brush of her fingers across his chest causes his abs to clench, his heartbeat to quicken. How his breathing becomes shallow and rapid.

She leans down, her dark hair cascading over them both onto the patterned green and white sheets of his bed. Her mouth lingers on his for a moment before sliding down his neck and chest. His body sings under her, like a tuning fork that has been freshly hit, sound waves flowing through him, into her. His hands grab her arms forcefully and she can already feel the bruises form.

But isn't that the reason they are together? To brand each other with marks of lust and want.

She drags her teeth over the sensitive peak of his nipple and sets free a smile as he moans.

She is extremely glad that his mom is working another night shift.

Everything she knows, she's learned from books or him. And he has been a most instructive teacher. If she is completely honest, she would admit that she's used his lessons when she's on her own as well. It's never as exciting, but there is something to be said for being independent of your partner, and she thinks it's an important skill to have.

Her hand trails down, down, down, under the stretchy elastic of his boxers. She's never tried this before, and she's a little apprehensive.

She looks into his eyes as her fingers slide over the part of him that has her most curious and timid at the same time. His eyes are staring back at her.

She could never do this with that other boy (the one she's still not naming). She would be too anxious about getting it right.

As her fingers wrap around him, and his flesh heats and hardens in her palm, she waits.

He tells her with his body and his words when to stroke, where to touch, and this learning has its own kind of beauty. When his words become garbled, she thinks it's the most amazing melody she's ever heard.

He finally comes in her hand, all hot and sticky, but she doesn't know that she's felt more turned on before in her life. So as he turns his body onto hers, and his fingers seek out those magically pressure points that only he knows about, she simply sighs and lets him. Her messy hands grip at his sheets, her lips seek out that wonderful spot between his clavicles that makes him crazy.

His hands are busy rushing around the spot she so desperately wants him to touch, push, hit. God, she'll take anything right now, he just NEEDS to touch her.

She doesn't imagine another body in his place. Doesn't imagine longer hair, or brighter eyes. She only lives for the moment when his fingers finally enter her body forcefully and his thumb finds that spot that only he (and now she) knows about.

She screams out her release. Never his name. Only a moan, a "Yes," an "Oh, God."

"Where the fuck did you learn that?" His voice is rugged and low.

When she's recovered enough to speak, she responds, "You taught me. You're the only one."

She looks into his eyes and doesn't see the same kind of pain she did the first time. And begins to wonder if whatever they are to each other is coming to an end. Wonders if they've shared all that they are capable of.

When his lips come down on hers they're hard and knowledgeable. The kind of skilled lips that have seduced women, and girls, maybe even (unconsciously) a few boys. She wonders if hers feel familiar to him now, too.

She spends the night at his house, calling her dads to say that she's sleeping over at Kurt's house because they want to watch the Judy Garland Marathon that's on T.V. She doesn't feel guilty for lying to them.

While she's been on the phone, Noah has changed his sheets. They're now blue and yellow striped pattern that she finds almost too sunny for him. He lends her one of his shirts but doesn't offer to turn as she changes. It's not like he hasn't seen it all before anyway. Still, she's nervous as she strips off her clothes, folding them carefully on the desk she's sure he never uses.

She slides into the bed, between the sheets and sleeps next to him.

When she wakes up, it's with warm arms wrapped around her waist.


	7. Those Other Little Blue Pills

**Title: Those other little blue pills**

**Word Count: 1126**

**Characters: Puck and Rachel (duh)**

**Spoilers: If you've seen "Vitamin D" you're good to go.**

**Rating: R for sexual stuff and swearing… yes, I made Rachel Berry swear. I am a terrible person.**

**Summary: They haven't had an at-school session in quite some time. She almost misses them.**

**Author's Note: When does material become explicit? What is explicit? This chapter has been toned down significantly. If you want the full smutty version you should check on my livejournal (.com).**

They haven't had an at-school session in quite some time. She almost misses them. The heat, the anxious and dangerous feeling that they could be caught at any second. Sometimes she still feels that in when their parents are just down the hall, or down the stairs, continuing on with life as normal. She especially feels it when her shirt is off and so is his. When her mouth is attached to his, her tongue spelling out the letters of her name on his. When the sheets that were cool when they walked into his bedroom (or hers) begin to heat beneath their bodies until she wants to throw them all on the ground.

So she's extremely surprised when, between classes on a Tuesday, those familiarly calloused fingers wrap around her hand and guide her into a room. It's lined with paper, floor to ceiling. Different colours and textures on different shelves. Large poster board sheets to small ticker tape rolls give the room a slightly musty smell, but she doesn't care.

Her body conforms to his as he presses her against the shelving units. His eyes are just a bit wilder than usual, his movements are jerky and fast. But his hands are in the hair she's ecstatically happy she left down this morning, and his lips quickly (and passionately) descend on hers.

Her eyes close as her lips respond to the pressure. One of his hands works it's way down to cup her through her pink polo shirt before continuing to journey further down her body.

Suddenly her lips are free. One of his hands lingers along the outside of her thigh, just below where her khaki skirt begins, the other presses into her back in slow circles. He speaks for the first time.

"God, I want you. I want you so bad. Can't think. Just do. Fuck, you're beautiful. So beautiful and hot." The hand at her thigh moves with purpose to her underwear, and she lets loose a tiny moan. "And wet. So ready." His sentences run together and she considers (very) briefly that the boy's performance was very energetic. But then the hand slides under her panties and into her.

Backed against the wall of rainbow coloured construction paper, she goes along with him on this trip, until she pants out his name against his lips.

Oh, God!

The lights are on in the paper supply room. Anyone could walk in at any minute, but she really doesn't care. She's so close. So fucking close. She thinks she must have said it aloud because he sinks down her body and… Fuck!

That's it.

Her muscles are shaking, like an earthquake moving through her body. God, she never wants it to stop. Never.

She doesn't know that she can even stand anymore. So she doesn't.

She reaches her hand up and pulls him down to sit beside her on the ground.

His pupils are dilated so much that she doesn't see any brown at all, only black. Her hand curls around twists lightly, strokes once. That's all it takes today.

Their hands are both sticky and messy. His pants are open wide, her underwear still sits around her ankles. But somehow the moment is perfect (even in the harsh fluorescent lighting). She pulls together her own clothes before she works on his.

When they are both standing again, after she presses a small kiss to his lips, she asks, "What did you take?"

He pulls the box from his back pocket. It's blue with some kind of label on it but she doesn't recognize it. "Finn got it from the school nurse. See he was falling asleep in class and at practice and pretty much everywhere because he's so upset about Quinn and the baby and football and Glee and you. And he just can't handle it all, so he went to the school nurse just like I suggested and she gave him this amazing little blue pill. Not like those blue pills that make you hard when you have limp dick, but these other pills. He gave them some kind of funny name but I can't remember it now, but anyway, the nurse gave him these and we all took one before we had to perform and I've never felt so good in my life as I do right now. I thought that earlier, on the stage, that was the best feeling ever, but it's not. This is right here. And why can't I stop talking. I really want to stop talking, but my mouth is still moving."

She shuts him up the only way she knows how (the way that always works for her). For a time, it hurts to know that Finn is still thinking of her, but finally she doesn't feel that stabbing pain in her chest when she thinks of Quinn and the baby – Noah's baby.

"Come on, I'll take you home," she says as she grabs his hand.

* * * * *

"Oh my gosh, that went so amazingly well. I'm so proud of us. We did such a good job. I'm ecstatic actually. Over the moon. God, I feel great. How did you ever deal with feeling like this. Wasn't it phenomenal?"

She's jumping up and down, her bright yellow dress bouncing higher and higher each time.

"It feels like when you kiss me and everything comes into extreme focus and then your hands travel down my body, sometimes just along the side, teasing. God, I love that. Why aren't you kissing me? I love it when you kiss me. I forget about everything else when your lips are on mine."

She moves so that her body is pressed up against his.

"I've never told you this before, but sometimes after school when I'm alone in my room, I think about you and my hands wander and I imagine that you're with me in the room. That they're your hands that are touching me. Why won't you kiss me? I really love it when you…"

His lips move on hers, if only to stop the incessant babbling.

In reality, he's so turned on just thinking about her touching herself while thinking of him. His body slips and slides along hers and he fantasizes about fucking her on the choir room floor, all harsh and rough and fast.

And her legs are wrapped around his hips and his hands are under her skirt and they rock together, a sorry imitation of sex.

Fuck, he wants her so badly. Wants that hot little body sweaty and straining. He rocks hard against her, and they're both coming. His lips are still attached to hers, even as he slides his hands back on top of their clothes. And it's still not enough.

Fuck.


	8. Choices and Consequences

**Title: Choices and Consequences  
Word Count: 1191  
Characters: Rachel, Puck, Quinn, Finn (Rachel/Puck, Rachel/Finn; hints of Quinn/Puck, Quinn/Finn)  
Spoilers: All aired episodes (takes place during and after "throwdown")  
Summary: She wonders how people don't see through it. The facade that Quinn and Finn and Noah put up for everyone to see.  
Rating: Pg-13 (for some more swear words)  
Disclaimer: Don't own them... still!  
****Author's Note: One to go! A big huge enormous thank you to everyone who has taken the time to look/read/review. I hope to be able to respond to all the reviews personally. I means a lot. I wrote out this series a while back and it's super nice to know that with all the amazing stories out there people still want to read what I've written. **

* * * * *

She wonders how people don't see through it. The façade that Quinn and Finn and Noah put up for everyone to see. Even if Noah hadn't confided the truth to her, the moment Ms. Sylvester's words were out in the open she would have known. Noah's gaze went directly to Quinn. Finn kept staring ahead. Quinn's mouth popped open just a bit.

Noah's eyes fall to the floor. She knows that he's ashamed. That he had wanted to do the right thing, but Quinn wouldn't let him.

Still, she says nothing to any of them as she leaves the room.

* * * * *

Later at practice, as she sings a song to a girl who has taken great pleasure in pushing her down, a girl who is carrying her boyfriend's child, her world slips.

When her hands reach at Noah's she feels that sparkle of something special. But his eyes move to Quinn often, and she doesn't know whether to feel jealous or not.

When Finn's hand reaches to touch her heart, she finds tears in her eyes. When they circle each other singing about how everything that's meant to be will be, she bleeds.

When her hand covers his heart, and his hand covers her, logically she's knows it's just a part of the choreography of the song, but she can't help the fact that her own heart skips a beat. That her gaze drifts up to his lips momentarily. When they spin again, his hand resting on her waist, like it was always meant to, she feels something inside her break. She doesn't believe the words she sings anymore.

She stands before Quinn, and considers what a warped love quadrangle they've managed to form for themselves. And Finn stands between them. Noah on one side, Finn on the other.

Finn's hand is soft and strong as it grasps at hers, she clings to it tightly.

Noah's hand is calloused and so familiar, and she allows her fingers to lace with his.

She wonders if it's possible to be in love with two people at the same time.

* * * * *

That night she dreams in grey.

* * * * *

When she parks her car at the school in the morning she can feel that something is off. The air around the building is staid, static. There are clouds littering the sky and she's glad that she wore her new coat to ward off the crisp bite of the autumn air.

The hallways are crammed with people removing their jackets, stuffing scarves into lockers and chatting animatedly. They don't stop as she walks by and she hears a name she recognizes… "Finn just found out, this morning. He's already gone off."

"Oh my gosh, what do you think he's going to do?"

She knows that eavesdropping is not polite, but she can't help herself. She continues to listen to the conversation of the two girls who have locker space just down from her.

"I don't know, but wherever he is, you can be sure that it's not good."

She quickly hangs her jacket on the hook in the locker and grabs her French textbook for first period.

She arrives at her class just in time for the second bell to ring.

She hears Finn's name whispered again, along with Quinn's. That's not anything new. She's been hearing rumours about them for weeks now. They've broken up, they've not broken up. They've dropped out of school because of Glee Club, they've decided to run off together and join the circus. All kinds of rumours.

Normally, when the teacher walks in, they shut up. But not today. She hears a new name and the hushed whispers get louder.

"… Puck…"

She walks up, complains briefly of a headache, and is given a hall pass to go and see the nurse. She takes her books with her.

Noah has Math this period, she's sure he'll be in the nurse's station as always, probably taking a nap. She's never met someone so intelligent yet so unwilling to work hard.

The nurse's office door is closed. There is only one health room, one bed, so the door is only ever closed when there is a "patient" already there. She knocks softly on the door and waits.

The nurse opens up the door and she sees her two boys sitting on opposite ends of the room, both on plastic chairs.

Finn has a blue ice pack against his knuckles. His eyes don't meet hers as he looks towards the door.

"Mrs. Kindell, I have a really bad headache. I got a pass from my French teacher to come and lie down for a while. I hope that's alright?"

The nurse nods and mumbles something quietly about not wanting to disturb the other patients she already has in the room. "Take a seat on the bed, dear." She motions beside Finn.

"What happened?" she asks him as soon as the nurse is gone.

"Why don't you ask your boyfriend?" is the extremely bitter reply.

She looks across the small room to where Noah is sitting. There is a laceration above his left eye that is still bleeding, his lip is swollen and split on one side, his shoulders are hunched forward as if he's protecting something in the middle of his chest. She wastes no time in crossing the room.

"Who did this to you?" she asks, though she already knows the answer. Sees it in his eyes before he says anything at all. The resignation, the shame, the anguish. She moves the ice sitting beside him onto his lip with one hand, and brushes at the skin around the small cut with the other. "Why did you let him," she whispers to him.

"You know why," is his reply said only for her to hear. Her lips brush against his bruises lightly, and she hears the grunt of disgust from behind her.

"Fuck this, I'm going back to class." Finn's words are cold. So cold, she doesn't believe he'll actually do it until the door slams shut behind him.

"So he knows?" She doesn't really expect an answer and she doesn't get one. "How did he find out?"

"I don't know. I really don't. Maybe Quinn said something. Maybe she told someone and it got out. Maybe he just smartened up and realized that you can't get fucking pregnant if you aren't actually having sex. Fuck, I deserve this. I deserve to be alone. You should go be with him. He's who you really want. I fucked up royally and this is my penance."

He knows the word "penance." He's there, has been there for her. He might not be perfect, but he's real. He's hurting right now and all she can do is reassure him that she's not leaving him. That he does deserve some happiness.

She pulls him up to the sick bed, places his head on the pillow and slides his knees up so that her body will fit as well. She wraps her arms around him and they lie together, each thinking of choices and consequences.


	9. Do You See Me?

**Title: Do you see me?  
Word Count: Like 600 words less than the LJ version at 2000  
Rating: Used to be NC-17, but toned down for ffnet to R  
****Characters: Rachel/Puck and NO ONE ELSE  
Summary: She meets him at his house that night. His mom is not home from work, another late night shift. She's brough a dinner of sorts, some soup and a green salad...  
Spoilers: Completely AU now that they have actually hooked up in canon! WOO HOO! So no spoilers for anything aside from the fact that Quinn's baby drama has been revealed as Quinn and Puck's baby drama - but we all knew that anyway.**

Author's Note: SERIOUSLY different. See LJ for smutted up version.

She meets him at his house that night. His mom is not home from work, another late night shift. She's brought a dinner of sorts, some soup and a green salad. She knows that with his injuries he's probably not feeling up to cooking for himself. He probably just wants to heal in peace, but peace is the very last thing on her mind.

She tried to talk to Finn in the hallway after she'd driven Noah home at lunchtime. He'd turned his head and walked the other way. Another rejection.

So she stands in front of Noah's house with two Tupperware containers in her hands and a smile on her face, waiting for someone to answer the doorbell.

When he finally does, she doesn't ask for permission to enter, just pushes past him. The cut above his eye has begun to heal, though it's still purple in colour. Thank God, his hands are fine. He didn't even bother to fight back. Just took the beating that had been handed down.

In a sick way, she admires him for that.

"I brought you some dinner," she says. "I figured you wouldn't want to make dinner for yourself."

"Thanks," he says briefly, grabbing the containers from her and putting them directly into the fridge. "Do you want to come up?"

She nods in response and follows him up to his room.

She's glad she took him home at lunch. She's glad he didn't have to sit through the final hours of school with everyone whispering his name in the halls. She'd never realized how many people would sympathize with "poor little Quinn." She kept hearing how he'd taken advantage of her, and Quinn didn't deserve all this. Blah, blah, blah, blah. The more she heard, the more she came to detest Quinn Fabray and her choices.

When they reach his room she stops in the doorway. He sits down on his bed, the bright yellow and green sheets covered by a solid green cover, a sure sign that winter was on its way. She watches his head lull slightly down before she speaks.

"Why?"

He looks up at her, dark brown eyes hardening before her. "Why not." He smirks back.

"Noah," she whispers, "I'm serious. Why did you sleep with her?" She touches her hair, a nervous habit she's worked really hard to break over the years.

He's silent for the longest time, she begins to think that he's not going to answer her. Begins to think that she needs to turn around and walk out of his house, and leave him.

Maybe they were never meant to be, maybe this whole thing (whatever they are) was a mistake and should end now. Maybe she should run to Finn and tell him… Well, she doesn't know what she would tell him. She's still so mad about what he did earlier today.

But then he speaks. And all those thoughts fall away.

"I'd love to tell you that we were drunk, that it didn't mean anything. That we were just getting back at Finn for leaving both of us for Glee, and you. That it could have been any girl." He puts his head in his hands and she steps into the room and sits beside him.

"But the truth is more than all that. She saw me, you know. Even before she hooked up with Finn, we were friendly. And that night she was beautiful and broken, and I was finally going to get the girl. The truth is, I'd been watching her, waiting, since before…"

She pulls his hand down from his face and laces her fingers with his. "You were in love with her." It's not a question. She doesn't expect an answer. She doesn't ask him about Finn. About how he could do that to his friend. She understands that all too well. She understands the insane pull of undeniable attraction. She feels it every time she's with him.

What she really wants to know is if he's still in love with her, but she's too afraid to ask.

So she slides so that her knees are on either side of his body on the bed and her fingers are entwined with his. His eyes meet hers and she sees such sadness. "I just wanted to do right by her. My kid, you know. I wanted to be able to help her, be there for her like my dad never…" Her lips cut him off. Not tentative or brushing, but forceful and knowing. His fingers tense on hers and he makes a noise in the back of his throat. But she keeps going, moving her thumbs along the backs of his hands in small circle as she leans forward and presses her chest and his onto the bed.

She breaks her hands away from his. They cup his face, carefully avoiding the bruised skin, as her lips close over his bottom lip, open, then close over it again, sucking it gently into her mouth for her tongue to run gingerly across it. It tastes slightly sweet and she wonders if he's been drinking juice or soda. She can't tell. But she's extremely curious so she uses their position to her advantage, letting her tongue tease his lips open so that she can curl hers against his. Cola, definitely cola. She has the aftertaste in her mouth now, she's certain.

She pulls away, to sit up on her knees, and her hands go to the bottom of her argyle sweater. It's pink and purple and just the right amount of girly and preppy. But she won't be needing it tonight, so she throws it on the carpet next to his bed. Her fingers move against the buttons of her blouse, her eyes locked on his. The hardness has faded from them, replaced with something else, something she thinks is mimicked in her eyes.

Suddenly her hands are covered by his, effectively stopping her mid-task. He knows how much she hates to leave anything unfinished. But his eyes are full of questions, and the answer to all of them is yes. So she tells him so.

His mouth covers hers, his abs clenching in the most amazing way as his torso molds to hers. She knows because her hands are pressed between them at just the right level to feel the edges of each muscle carved into his stomach. God, he's beautiful, and he's still fully clothed.

His fingers take over from hers, undoing the white buttons so slowly. She wonders what's taking him so damn long. Part of her wants him to just rip the shirt and be done with it. While the other part is busy (so busy) thinking about those hands and their competency. She shivers with the recollection, as the last button comes free and his fingers slide up to her shoulders to push the shirt off, pulling it at a torturous pace down her arms before leaving it somewhere near her sweater.

She takes the opportunity to rid him of his shirt as well, bunching the cotton in her hands before pulling it up over his head – his arms reaching up to help her.

He covers her face with kisses again as his hands travel around to her back before unclasping the solid white bra she's wearing. It's nothing fancy, nothing lacy, or even sexy in her books, but she loves the way that Noah's eyes graze over it like it's the most provocative article of clothing in the world. A blink later, his hand is cupping her breast holding it, a thumb brushing over her nipple, and she sighs.

She kisses him again, deeper this time as her fingers work at the button on his jeans before sliding the zipper down. She stands up and her hands move to her skirt, unzipping the side and sliding it down her legs. She trembles as his eyes course over her. She's never felt so completely defenseless. She watches him stand in front of her, throwing his jeans across the room carelessly before placing his hands on her hips, sliding up to her waist. Her eyes slip shut as his hands continue, along her ribs, up the soft side of her breast, all the way to her shoulder. Up her neck, to her jaw line where they stop.

He waits. Not touching her anywhere anymore but her face. She really wants him to touch her everywhere. Her eyes open, meet his and he whispers, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," she says as she nods her head, brushing a tear out of her eye. "Yes, I'm sure." And she can't speak anymore because his mouth covers hers, his hands sliding back down her body, pulling her underwear off her hips, so that it falls around her ankles. As she steps forward, they're left behind. She does the same with his boxers, sliding them off his hips slowly, watching him trip a little bit over them, as his ankles get caught. She giggles slightly, before they fall onto his bed together, and his lips trail along her neck until they find the spot that stops her heart. And she moans, deep.

The lamp beside his bed is on. The light shines down on their bodies illuminating them with a sunny shimmer.

This moment is actually happening.

Oh, God.

She looks into his eyes again, knowing that he cares, how much doesn't really matter today, maybe it will, sometime… in the future. In their future, but tonight, all that matters is this. This monumental choice she's making with a clear conscience and an open heart.

When it's over, their bodies trembling in tandem, she finally understands. She was never meant to share this moment with anyone but him.

She feels him roll them both over and him slip out of her, and she sighs at the loss. Her eyes slip shut, her lips gliding together in a smile, as she feels his weight leave the bed. She can still feel him everywhere.

When he returns, the door to his room closing behind him, she looks up at him. He slips the sheet of the bed over them both before laying his fingers on her side, just above her hip. He kisses her so softly, he never was one for words, and she sighs again and turns so that her body can press into his. His hand slides from her slide down her stomach to lie just below her belly button, holding her close to him.

He doesn't whisper meaningful words to her. Doesn't confess his undying love and devotion. To be honest, she doesn't know that she'd want him to. He simply shows her how special and important she is by wrapping himself around her and holding her until she's asleep.


End file.
